


You Think You're Cooler Than Me?

by ivebeenwaitingforthis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, Human Castiel, M/M, Whore!Cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivebeenwaitingforthis/pseuds/ivebeenwaitingforthis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>HSAU Dean's the new kid at school, Cas is the popular one and he bets his brother he can seduce and bed Dean. Though the longer time the boys spend together, the more Cas comes to realize he's not looking forward to what will come when the bet is won. He's not looking forward to losing Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Party

**Author's Note:**

> I have a couple of things to say...  
> 1\. This is NOT MY FIC. This story does not belong to me, it belongs to nutmeg17, who's over on Live Journal. About a year ago she began writing this fic, and for whatever reason she never finished it. I thought it was so good and then it just CUT OFF and I was, to put it lightly, frustrated. I couldn't leave it like that, I had to have closure, so my brain came up with the stupid idea of finishing it on my own. But you obviously have to read the original first, so... https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7961660/1/You_think_youre_cooler_than_me  
> 2\. This is the first fanfiction I have ever written, or at least published. I've never written Dean/Cas, either, and I'm really nervous...I know this can never be as good as the original story, but I'm giving it my best shot.  
> 3\. In the original, there are some things that belonged in the story that were never explained. Cas had some sort of illness that was obviously a main part in the story, but because I have no idea what it is, it's impossible for me to continue on that. So...I'm so sorry...I left it out...Please don't hate me, I'm pretty sure I just ruined the story and turned it into a sucky HSAU that no one wants to read, but I didn't know what else to do, please forgive me ;-;   
> 4\. I strongly encourage you to click that link up there. And don't forget to favorite the original! She's really a great writer, and she started this all anyway, so. Yeah! Enjoy!

“But what’s it like,” Chuck pleaded. Dean rolled his eyes. “I already told you, it’s just a regular freaking house, there’s nothing special about it at all.” Chuck had been babbling about the stupid party all day, and it only got worse when Dean picked him up for the ride.  
“But there’s gotta be something,” Chuck continued, “What’s his family like when they’re at home? Do they fight? What’s his room like?”  
Dean made the turn into Cas’ street, grateful that he could finally stop talking about the stupid party. It wasn’t anything mind-blowing. Not really, it was just a regular party that he was going to, with his friend, and there would be nothing going down that night at all. Not if he could help it, anyway.  
“Woah…” Chuck breathed. He was looking up at the enormous house, mouth slightly open in awe. Dean shoved on his shoulder. “Come on, we can’t stand here all night.” When they made their way to the entrance of the house, they were startled to see Gabriel jumping out and greeting them both.  
“HEY-yyyyyy…” He trailed off, looking momentarily confused at seeing these two boys at his party. He quickly composed himself, however, and waved them in, “Welcome, welcome, watch your shoes, don’t track mud in the house, there’s also a $10 cover charge, I’ll collect your payment here and now, please and thank you.” He held his hand out expectantly.  
“W-what? No one mentioned a cover charge-”   
“Lay off, Gabriel,” Balthazar walked up, cutting off Chuck. “Leave these two alone. No cover charge, but rest assured that anything else you may need,” He lifted the corner of a plastic bag out of his shirt pocket. Chuck’s eyes widened and Dean’s eyes rolled at the sight of a white powdery substance kept inside. “Comes with a price.” Balthazar then shoved the bag back in and hauled Gabriel away by his elbow. “Enjoy the party!” Gabriel tipped an imaginary hat at them and followed suit.  
“Ugh. Can you believe that? Not even 2 minutes inside and the guy is setting up his market.” Dean shook his head and walked a little further in, absorbing the party atmosphere in slowly.  
Music blared from the Novaks’ large speaker system. There were some cups and beers lying around, but not many since most people were participating in dancing to the thunderous bass music that bounced off of every surface. The kitchen’s bar was where the snacks were placed, just a couple of bowls filled with chips. Around the bowls were a couple of bottles of scotch and whiskey, which were for the most part still full. Dean shrugged to himself and went for the beer in the fridge, instead. He grabbed another to hand to Chuck, but when he turned around, his friend was being cornered by a group of stoned teenagers. Dean was about to say something before he saw that Chuck was laughing. He turned and saw Dean.  
“Hey! This is Adam, he’s in my History class!” Dean nodded and gave a friendly smile at the red-eyed boy. “Hey, how’s it goin.’” Adam nodded slowly and broke out into a huge grin, leaning down and whispering something into Chuck’s ear. His eyes widened and he turned to Dean, “I’ll be right back, we’re gonna go, um...get stoned.” The words tripped out of his mouth, not used to being said by someone like him. No one, thankfully, seemed to care. “Wanna come with?”  
Dean chuckled a bit. Not in a million years. “No thanks. I’ll stick around here.” Dean didn’t do weed. Not since that one time in 9th grade when he’d accidentally jumped out of a second story window thinking he could fly. He still had the stitches and a memory of a month in a cast to will him never to go near the “dank ass kush” ever again. Beer, on the other hand-he took a long drink-that was more his thing. Hello sweet and bitter glory.  
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean noticed a dark head bobbing it’s way over to him. He turned lazily, looking almost as bored as he felt. When he saw Cas, though, his heart may have beat about 3 times as fast, but he certainly wasn’t about to show it.  
Castiel had on a charcoal-striped button up shirt, which had the sleeves rolled up and the first few buttons already open, the smooth, light skin of his collar bone peeking through and speaking wonders to Dean’s fluttering stomach. His jeans were also dark, clinging to his hips and folding in just the right way to make him appear taller, those legs stretching out under him. Nope. Dean was most definitely not interested in what he saw.  
“Hey!” Cas finally made it to him, cheeks flushed pink from rushing over in between so many people, his hair slightly tussled. “Glad you made it. Enjoying the scene?” He leaned up against the bar next to dean, lightly bumping him with his shoulder. Dean scoffed.  
“Hardly. Here I was thinking the Novak parties would be something extraordinary, but they’re just every other party I’ve ever been to.” Cas laughed, “I take it you’ve been to a lot of parties then?”  
Dean just glanced at him sideways, that unbearably sexy and condescending smirk on his face pointed exactly at Castiel. “Been to enough.”  
Castiel pouted, “You’re going to hurt my feelings, Dean, I threw this party just for you.”  
“Just for me? Well, I’m flattered, but I think you’ve got a long way to go before this party is anywhere NEAR meeting my standards.”  
“Your standards, huh?” Castiel popped open a beer and took a swig, eyes narrowed playfully. “Enlighten me. What could we, here at the Novak household, do to make this experience more enjoyable for you?”  
Take me into the other room, let me kiss you, feel my hands all over your skin, listen to you moan beneath me…  
Dean gestured towards the dancefloor, “Get them to stop playing Rihanna, and we’re all set.” Castiel smirked, then waved at the small group of people surrounding the ipod from which the music was playing. He flung his arms around wildly, trying to communicate to skip to the next song, but somewhat failing. It just made Dean laugh, rich and warm, beside him. Castiel could only join in when the group of people stared at him with incredibly confused expressions. He finally gave up when the song ended and switched on its own. He fell back against the bar again, “This meet your standards yet?” He asked a pleasantly flushed Dean.  
“Man...this song isn’t much better, but that dance you just did pretty much made up for the whole shebang. I think I’m good for now.”  
Castiel couldn’t help but laugh.  
He spent the next thirty minutes or so more laid-back than he’d care to admit. He had a faint feeling that he was supposed to be doing something right now, but he was having so much fun just talking to Dean that he hardly cared. It wasn’t until halfway into their third beers that his slightly fuzzy eyes focused away from that white flash of a smile he’d been staring at all night over to two figures trying to get his attention.  
Looking over Dean’s shoulder, Castiel saw Gabriel and Balthazar, arms linked, grinning from ear to ear. It took him a second to realize that Gabriel was holding up a $50 bill, waving it around. Balthazar was obviously high on something, but there was still accusation in his bloodshot eyes, his face pulled into a wide smile that said “You’re not going to make it, are you?”  
Damned if he wasn’t.  
“Hey,” Castiel turned back to Dean, who was still wiping away the tears from their previous cracking up. “Hm?”  
“You know...this party is starting to-to bore me...wouldn’t you like to go somewhere else?”  
“Somewhere else?” He wasn’t exactly the fastest to piece things together, after 2 and a half beers.  
“How about…” Castiel lightly touched Dean’s shoulder, hand caressing it before sliding up around his neck, sending happy shivers through them both. “My room?”  
“You gonna-aha-you wanna play some Lord of the Rings Chess?”  
“Something like that.”  
“Cool…” Dean was obviously in no place to argue, and just kept the unexplainably goofy smile on his face as he let Castiel hold his hand and drag him through the hoard of hot, sliding bodies. The entire time, the monologue inside the boys’ minds was entirely different. Castiel couldn’t help but feel his pulse quicken as he thought, “Wow, I’m going to do it, finally gonna have myself a big slice of hot Winchester ass.” Meanwhile, all that Dean spoke in his own head was, “Do I even know how to play chess?” Which of course made him start giggling at the absurdity of the question. Of course he didn’t know how to play chess. That was Sammy’s turf, not his. Where were they going?  
“Hey, this isn’t your room-” Dean couldn’t get anything else out before he was dragged into an unfamiliar guest room and slammed up against the door, his neck being sucked by Castiel so ferociously it actually hurt.  
“Cas, what the fuck?!” All of his senses came flooding back to full sobriety as he shoved the boy away with as much force as his recovering muscles could manage.  
Castiel stumbled back, hand wiping at the corner of his mouth, eyes flashing hurt before turning angry. “WHAT? Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t want it! You’ve practically been asking for this all night, why the fuck do you keep holding yourself back?!”  
“Cas, we talked about this! You can’t just make a move on me whenever you’re feeling horny, I’m not your fucking sex toy!”  
Castiel chucked darkly, still drunk but not on alcohol. On determination and anger and hurt. “That’s all you look like to me,” He murmured, before the largest wave of guilt known to man washed over him at the widening of Dean’s eyes, the catch in his breath, the balling of his fists.  
“You...fucking asshole…”  
“Dean, wait, I didn’t mean it, I-” But Dean was gone. He only caught the opening and slamming of the front door as Dean stormed out of the house, not even phasing the teenagers still swaying on the dance floor. Castiel thought about going after him for the quickest of moments before his previous anger ignited him all over.  
Fucking Dean. With his fucking resistance and his fucking denial. His stupid fucking perfect face and hair, and those goddamn green eyes that sparkled when he laughed. His fucking jokes and sense of humor, his understanding and his company and everything that made him fucking Dean.   
Castiel eyes burned as he scanned the crowd, pulling the first sandy-haired boy he could distinguish through the salty blur. He led him away and into the first door he saw, throwing the boy in and lifting him up to sit on the sink of the bathroom as he fitted himself in between the strangers legs and kissed his lividness down to pure need.   
The boy happily complied, leaning down and mouthing back clumsily, as if he was unaware of how a male’s mouth worked. Castiel grew quickly tired of his inexperience and moved to undo the boy’s belt buckle instead.   
“O-Oh, Castiel…” He clawed retardedly at Castiel’s back, only serving to irritate him further. But Castiel made no move to stop the painful clawing, actually glad for a physical distraction from the swirl in his mind that was mistaking this boy’s potent Axe odor with Dean’s subtle scent of grass and wood shavings, the hint of home-y detergent.   
This was all he needed. Just some stranger, a quick fuck, and his imagination to will it all differently. Castiel didn’t need Dean, he’d never needed Dean. That boy was just another target, another brief fling that simply took up a little more of his time.  
Taking that unwanted cock into his mouth, Castiel managed to relieve himself of any notion that suggested the thing he had with Dean wasn’t just a bet. A useless game. That’s all this ever was.  
The boy cried out, filling Castiel’s ears and drowning out the stupid voice in his head that argued otherwise.


	2. The Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HSAU Dean's the new kid at school, Cas is the popular one and he bets his brother he can seduce and bed Dean. Though the longer time the boys spend together, the more Cas comes to realize he's not looking forward to what will come when the bet is won. He's not looking forward to losing Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, I'm so sorry this is so late. I had a really hectic week coming back to school, and I couldn't write this nearly as fast as I wanted to. But I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, that the next chapter will be out in less than three days.  
> Also, poor Sammy. All he wants to do is help...  
> Thanks so much for those of you who have left kudos so far!! Enjoy!

Dean fought hard to stay on his side of the road, though he came close to crashing about twice. It’s not exactly the easiest thing to focus on the road reflectors when your eyes are too fixated on mental images of infuriating sex hair and aggravating blue eyes.

What the hell was Castiel playing at? Dean felt betrayed, he felt as though Cas was using him him, despite all of his attempts to prevent just that. All of that crap...the sympathy and sentimental _shit_ Cas had spouted that first night that Dean was at his house. Was all of that just another tactic to get Dean to sleep with him?

Of course it was. More than feeling angry at Cas, Dean felt reprimand for himself. For letting Cas trick him into believing that there might be something else beneath all of that snarky teasing, all of that confident seduction. Dean laughed bitterly to himself. What else did he expect? It wasn’t as if the Novak whore had ever intended to actually get closer to Dean. Like Sam had said, Castiel didn’t _do_ friends.

And neither did Dean.

Finally pulling up and parking crookedly in his driveway, Dean stumbled into his house, glad that his mother worked that night. His gratitude didn’t last long, however, before the lamp light in the living room pierced Dean’s eyes. He squinted and saw Sam standing there, finger holding a place in the book he was carrying, most likely from staying up reading in his room.

“Dean?”

“Go back to bed,” Dean mumbled, making his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. His hand, sweaty and trembling, failed to grip the cup right and it crashed to the ground.

“Fuck!”

“Dean, are you okay?”

“ _I said go back to bed, Sam!_ ” Dean snarled. Sam remained there, unswayed.

“What’s wrong? I thought you were at the party.” Freaking little brothers.

“Nothing’s wrong, would you just go to your room and leave me alone?”

Sam frowned, “Dean, just tell me what happened and I’ll leave. You can’t lie to me, I know there’s something wrong.”

“Sam, I swear to god-”

“Was it Castiel?”

“WHAT DOES IT MATTER?! Can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?” Dean fumed. He was getting pretty damn close to breaking every other thing he could find in this house, starting with that stupid lamp that was just about blinding him right now.

“Dean, can’t you just tell me what happened? I’m only trying to help!”

“You wanna know what happened? Apparently, I’m that asshole’s freaking sex toy. That’s what he said. What the hell was I even thinking…” Dean brought a hand up to massage his throbbing temple, reacting torturously to all of the yelling.

“It’s not your fault you went, he-”

“What do you know, Sam? Stop acting like you know how I should deal with this, because you don’t, you have no idea…”

“Dean, I’m just trying to help.”

“Well fuck it, I don’t need your help! The last thing I need is for you to come in here and say ‘I told you so’!”

“That’s not what I was saying at all!”

“ _Goddammit, Sam_!” Dean turned and walked right through the broken glass, shards crunching under his sneakers. He shoved past his contentious brother, unable to stand another moment being questioned or cajoled. He threw himself back into the impala, slamming the door and revving off into the only place he could think of where he wouldn’t be bothered, by anyone.

But not before stopping by the store and picking up some well-needed beer. _________________________________________________

“Dean? That you?” Dean glanced behind him. Well. So much for not being bothered.

“What are you doing here, Chuck?” Dean asked, too tired and worn out to yell at his friend to get lost. And, to be honest, he was feeling a swirl of guilt after shoving off Sam some hours earlier; he could use the company.

Chuck cautiously hoisted himself onto the hood of the impala, where Dean had been drinking since 11:00. It was well past 1 in the morning. “I found out that you’d left, and it didn’t take long to figure out where you’d gone. I figured I’d come join you, see if you’re alright. You just kind of took off…” Dean stared ahead to the empty baseball field of his high school. He had parked his car in front of some trees that lined a small forest around the field. He doubted anyone would come find him here. Apparently, he was as wrong as he was predictable.

“Yeah, I...I didn’t wanna stay any longer.”

“How come? Something happen?” Chuck grabbed one of the beers and snapped it open. It was obvious that he had come down from his high. Dean took a deep breath.

“It’s just...fucking Cas. I actually thought that maybe he wasn’t so bad after all, maybe he was a different person than what he showed everyone. But I was wrong.”

“Did he try and sleep with you again?”

“Yeah, he...yeah. I told him I wasn’t his fucking sex toy, and he said that’s all I looked like. Heh…” Dean took a drink, fighting back the sting that gathered in his eyes. “I didn’t know what else I could have expected. Not from a slut like him.”

“Did it hurt?”

“What?” Dean looked at Chuck, confused by the sudden question.

“Did it hurt when he called you that?” Dean blinked a few times. “Ah...I mean, yeah it did, I guess...I guess I just thought he was someone different, but he led me on. All he wanted me for was sex.” Dean shook the last drop of his beer into his mouth and chucked the can away, then grabbed another one.

Chuck remained silent for a few minutes before finally speaking, “Dean, I haven’t known you that long and I know that you probably don’t think of us as the closest of friends...but this thing with Cas hasn’t exactly been...subtle.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“Look, I-I know it’s none of my business, but... don’t you think you’ve been thinking of Cas as more than just a friend?”

“What the hell are you talking about? He _is_ -ah, well he was. Just a friend.”

“I don’t know, I...I’ve seen how Castiel hits on people. Guy or girl, he usually goes full speed ahead to try and get them to sleep with him, but if they take too long to come around, he gives up. But with you it’s different…” Chuck glanced sideways nervously, hoping Dean wasn’t poised and ready to strike with a broken beer bottle or something. But he sat there, listening silently, his expression blank.

Chuck sighed. “I’m not sure why, but I think it has to do with how you’ve been treating him. Sure, like a friend, but...something else. He always looked so happy to be around you, and you weren’t a different story. I-it’s just-”

“No,” Dean cut him off, leaning back slowly, turning his gaze away from Chuck and towards the empty field. “No, I get it. You think me and Cas…” he trailed off, still completely unreadable to a now very anxious Chuck.

“Hey, I-I don’t mean anything by it, I mean, not in a bad way, like, everything’s cool-”

“You know what, though?” Dean took a last drink from his beer before tossing it with a _clunk_ into the pile of all the others. “‘M pretty sure you’re right.” Chuck stared, opening his mouth to say something before changing his mind and closing it instead. He grabbed two beers and handed one to Dean, looking too tired and drunk to deal with anything right now. Dean’s mouth twitched in what could pass for a smile, taking the beer and clinking it against his friend’s.

It didn’t take long before they both passed out. ________________________________________________________________________

The throbbing in Castiel’s head was ungodly. He didn’t know why he did this to himself. It was as if ever drink he took last night accounted to the feeling of a hammer trying to pound it’s way into his skull. He tried to sit up, senses returning to him, but found himself sandwiched between two half-naked girls asleep on either side of him. He grimaced. He tried shaking his arms a bit, and it was enough to make them move off of him, their groans of disapproval far from polite.

After disentangling himself from a nest of bed sheets, blankets, and clothes, Castiel made his way to the bathroom beside the guest room he’d woken up in. It took a couple of tries, but he found it to be blocked by some kid sleeping against it on the other side, completely unaffected by the repetitive nudging at his head.

Giving up with a sigh, he made his way down the stairs, littered minimally with plastic cups and a couple of shirts. The living room was in a similar state, a few additional bodies lying crumpled on the floor. Heading straight for the cupboard for some aspirin, which he swallowed down dry, Castiel tried to recount the previous evening’s events in his mind. Dean had left. Dean had been too perfect and Castiel too drunk and he’d tried to kiss

Dean and Dean left. Castiel shook his head as he remembered the words that triggered Dean’s dramatic exit.

_“That’s all you look like to me.”_

How could he be such an ass? Out of all the things he could have said to Dean, maybe even convinced him to at least spend the night, if nothing else. Castiel cursed his inability to just suck it up and apologize. He blamed it on his brothers…

“Good morning, sunshine!” Gabriel bellowed, right on cue. Castiel’s Stare Of Death pierced over dark shadows and directly at his older brother, who somehow magically avoided a hangover, despite the ridiculous amount of Royal Flushes the night before.

“Gabriel...if you don’t mind, my head is in the process of slow implosion. I’d appreciate it if you kept your voice down.”

“Sure thing, little bro!” Gabriel didn’t lower his volume at all, and on top of that he shoved the clutter on a counter to the side and hopped up, swinging his feet and knocking them repeatedly on the cabinet. Castiel only glared at him some more before turning to pull out some orange juice.

“So...how’d it go~?” Gabriel sang. Balthazar had also joined them, drying his freshly washed hair with a gray towel slung over his shoulders, kicking Gabriel’s legs hard enough to make them stop banging against the cabinet.

“How did _what_ go?”

“Oh, come on, Cassie, don’t play games with me. You know what I’m talking about. What happened to your blushing bride-to-be? Don’t tell me he’s waiting for you back in bed. Are you making your sweetie breakfast?” “Gabriel…”

Balthazar warned, unwrapping a snickers bar he found lying in the sink. “Tell us, Castiel, what did come of Dean?”

“It’s none of your business,” Castiel mumbled, not turning around despite having already spotted the OJ.

“I beg to differ, it’s every bit of our business! Are we to assume we owe you $50? Or is it the other way around?”

“It’s the other way around, isn’t it Cassie? I saw someone storming out last night, and they looked suspiciously like Dean. Plus, if you’d knocked him up last night, there would probably be a lot less glitter involved...unless he’s into that kind of thing.” Gabriel snickered, indicating to the sparkly pink press-on nail somehow stuck to Castiel’s intractable hair. Cas scowled. This may or may not have been one of the reasons he prefered guys to girls…

“Is that so?” Balthazar leaned back cooly, a smirk playing on his face. “Well, Cas? Did the Winchester boy leave? Let me guess. He didn’t want commitment.”

“No, no, he had a gay freakout!” Gabriel suggested, cracking up.

“That’s plausible. Is that what happened? Or maybe he had some strange deformity he wanted no one to know about.”

“That’s good, that’s good-”

“Would you two _shut up_?!” Castiel whirled around and bared his teeth at them, ignoring the suffering in his skull. “Nothing happened, alright? I didn’t sleep with him, what do you want me to say? It would help if you two weren’t such fucking dicks about it!”

Gabriel stopped laughing long enough to pull an apologetic face, “Cassie, bro, we were just playing around-”

“Well _enough_ with your games! I don’t wanna fucking deal with this right now…” Castiel snatched up a random jacket he found draped over a chair and stomped towards the front door, careful to avoid the mass of bodies.

“Castiel, come on, it was just a joke...Castiel!” But Balthazar was shouting at a door. Castiel was gone. He looked at Gabriel who shrugged his shoulders in defeat. There was something weird about this whole thing. Naturally, as the older brothers, it was also their duty not to care. They turned back and began prodding at the sleeping guests, urging them to get their hungover asses home.

Meanwhile, Castiel was stomping down his street, getting only a couple of houses down before his head begged his feet for lighter steps. It was at this time that he realized three things: 1) He had no idea where his legs were leading him, but they seemed pretty adamant about their choice of destination. 2) Something about the party, Dean, and the rejection struck a ringing chord inside of him, but Castiel wasn’t sure if he was ready to listen yet. And 3) The sweater that he got was way too big on him.

It was only a matter of time before he recognized the turns he was taking as the road to Dean’s house. Why he would go there was beyond him, but he made little effort to turn the other way. He figured that, if anything, he could just drop in. What’s the worst that could happen? ______________________________________________________________________________

Dean awoke in a puddle of drool.

It took him a few seconds to reel back his immediate notions of killing whoever had drooled on his baby’s leather, realizing that he was the one at fault. He sat up, bones cracking in disapproval, light nearly blinding him from outside of his car. He checked the time - 10 am. It was too early for him to be waking up, considering he had blacked out nowhere before 3. He and Chuck had gotten sufficiently wasted and thrown their empty beer bottles at the sky, aiming to hit one of the helicopters that would occasionally whir it’s way by them. If his brain was still functioning properly, he also recalled singing. And dancing. Very loudly and obnoxiously, and there may or may not have been some crying involved. Dean held his head in his hands. He would never drink alcohol again…

He stumbled out of the impala into the blinding sunlight, staggering to find his way to Chuck, who was draped over the hood of his car, his own drool-puddle significantly more impressive. Dean shook him awake not-too-gently.

“Hmmm….mmmnnnggggnoo…..gahh, wha-?” Chuck pried his eyes open and wished he hadn’t. A very angry-looking dean glared back at him through squinted eyes.

“Get off my car.”

“The fuu…”

“Get your ass off my baby!” Dean used all of his strength to shove Chuck over the edge of the hood, crashing to the soft ground in a panicked wave of limbs.

“Dude, what he hell?!” Chuck swayed beside the Impala’s tire, his world spinning as he tried to maneuver his field of vision around to Dean.

“You left your drool all over her...damn it, Chuck!”

“ _Are you serious_?! THAT’S why you attacked me like...like some madman?!” Dean scoffed and shook his head. "Just get inside. I’m taking you home. I gotta get back to Sammy, and I know you have work.” Chuck groaned, “No. No, I don’t wanna, just leave me here, I’ll call in sick…”

“I’m not just gonna leave you here. Would you get in the car? I’m dying for some breakfast.” Chuck reluctantly heaved himself off the ground, wincing at the roaring start of the Impala. ______________________________________________________________________________

The second Sam heard the knocking of the front door, he was on his feet, running over to open it despite the cramps in his legs or the bleariness in his eyes. His brother was home! He hadn’t known whether or not he’d come back the next morning after their fight, Sam was still feeling guilt over how much he’d upset his brother. Hopefully Dean was in a better mood now to apologize…

“Dean! You’re-” Sam froze. His eyes widened and his mouth ran dry.

“Good morning, Sam,” Castiel freaking Novak smiled at him, “Is Dean home?” Sam didn’t know whether to feel giddy or enraged. Sure, Castiel was basically a god and spoke to him directly and smiled at him, but he had also been the reason Dean was still out there somewhere, leaving Sam to mull over things by himself.

“He’s...out, right now,” Sam finally said, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Oh...well is there any chance I could wait around here until he comes back?” Cas looked hopeful. Sam was ignoring the teenage girl in him that was freaking out and screaming internally.

“Sure thing,” he said coolly.

Castiel shuffled inside onto the well-worn hardwood floors. He subconsciously inhaled deeply. The house smelled similarly like Dean, but with a hint of air freshener and old books added into the mix. He supposed their mother and Sam contributed to both.

“I, um...I don’t wanna sound strange or anything, but...are you alright, Castiel?” Sam didn’t look him straight in the eye, his gaze hovering more around the collar of Cas’ sweater.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I…” Castiel stopped himself. He didn’t want to lie to Sam. He figured Dean probably already told him about the night before, and to be honest Cas was too damn tired to keep up appearances, especially in front of a freshman. “Well...actually, no. I’m not alright.” He sighed and sat down on the leather couch, soft with age. Sam sat in the recliner across from him, setting a book out of the way. _Catcher in the Rye_ , Cas read. Intriguing.

“I, uh...I kind of messed up. With your brother.” Sam chuckled lightly, “Yeah, no kidding. What happened last night?”

“It was my fault, I came on to Dean, even though I knew he didn’t want me to. And I may or may not have mentioned something completely insensitive...and possibly slept my way out of having to deal with it.” Sam pulled a face, “Yeah, I could live without that last part.” Cas let out a small laugh. “Sorry.”

“Hey, this is probably really inappropriate, and I don’t want to invade your space or anything, but...do you like my brother?” Castiel paused. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. “Well...of course, he’s been a good friend to me, so far-”

“That’s not really what I mean, though,” Sam interrupter. Castiel swallowed. When did it get so hot in here?

“I mean...does he mean anything to you? Rather than just a friend. I know that Dean can be kind of a jerk sometimes, but he usually means well. And he hardly ever admits to liking someone, but I can tell. I can tell he likes you. A lot.” Sam’s lips curved into a very small smile. Castiel felt a mix of emotions that began with, _who the hell does this kid think he is?!_ Never had he met someone so daring to tell him things about himself...things he hadn’t even thought about on his own before. He opened his mouth to say something back, but nothing came out.

“Just...if there’s one thing you need to know about Dean it’s this:” Sam offered, sensing the tension Castiel felt, “He’s not very good at letting things go. I know something happened, and it probably seems like it can’t get fixed, but, hey, take it from me...if you really want to, you can make it up to him. He’ll let you. But only if you really mean it,” he paused, “otherwise, I’d steer clear for a couple days.”

This made Castiel laugh unexpectedly. He shook his head at the absurdity of taking advice from a freshman he hardly knew. But, if it was anything to go by, this was Dean’s brother. He probably knew him better than anyone, and for some reason that was enough for Cas.

“Yeah...thanks,” Cas admitted quietly, “I needed that.”

Sam smiled. “I can see why he likes you so much. You aren’t the...err…character I thought you’d be.”

“Character? Portraying a rich, spoiled brat who’s also a master of seduction?” Cas smirked. Sam blushed, “No, no, not like that, ah-” But he never got to finish his sentence. Because in between their talk of Dean, they hadn’t heard the familiar rumbling approaching the driveway. And in between their talk of Cas, they hadn’t noticed Dean walking in.


End file.
